Clumsy
by Achenar
Summary: A songfic based on Clumsy by Our Lady Peace. Rinoa contemplates one.. things. Shortish. PG for very slight references. In game.


**Author's Note: Umm.. was listening to Clumsy, by Our Lady Peace, and thought I'd write. Mind you, I don't know what I'm writing.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own the song, don't own FF8. Never pretended to.**

Clumsy

_throw away the radio_

_suitcase keeps you awake_

_hide the telephone, the telephone, telephone in case_

_you realize that sometimes you're just not okay_

As the sun rose, casting warm golden light over trees and grass, awaking daybirds and reminding various monsters that it was time to rise and begin attacking those travellers which scorned the railways and cars, preferred to walk through the grassy plains of Galbadia, a small party – two people, guarded by forces unknown – slept peacefully, surrounded by those few possessions which they had.

Next to a slender, dark-haired girl's head, a small wireless radio began playing.

"..casting shadows over lower Galbadia. Traffic in Deling City, despite the recent attack on our ambassador, is jamming up rapidly. And this is one-oh-eight-point four, Gee-Three Eff-Emm."

The dark-haired girl rolled over, picking up the tiny radio and flinging it away; it landed in a small, open suitcase, causing the lid – propped up against one of the few trees out on the plains – to fall in, effectively muffling the music which then plays, and smothering the sound of the softly beeping communication device inside. 

It wasn't like she could sleep in the first place; the all too recent mission – ruined by her – was heavy on her mind.

She just /had/ to have gone, to try to solve the mission – not even her mission, just that of her guardian – her own way. She should have known better. The sorceress would never fall for such a trick.

_you level off, level off, level off_

_but it's not alright now_

_you need to understand_

_there's nothing strange about this_

She was forced to watch, helplessly, as she was dragged from the cell room with her friends, shoved into Irvine's arms, and then helped away. She'd been thinking, trying to rationalise what she'd done, trying to make herself feel better. It wasn't until they were well and away from the base that she'd returned to the right world. Too late, perhaps.

Irvine didn't even seem overly fazed by it.

"My orders were to get you out, should there be trouble. There was, so I've gotten you away from trouble."

She had to admit, though, that there was a hint of worry behind that smooth façade. This was hurting him, too. She shouldn't be so selfish.

_you need to know your friends_

_you need to know that_

_i'll be waving my hand watching you drown_

_watching you scream_

_quiet or loud_

She'd screamed, and kicked, and refused to move from the spot.

"Irvine, you can't just leave them! They're your comrades – you need to stick by them!"

But she'd left /her/ comrades behind. She wondered where they were. They'd be okay, right? The Forest Owl's plots had been discovered before, their plans failed. But they ran, for a while, and eventually regrouped, with better plans and more information, stronger and smarter.

That would be the same, this time… right?

_and maybe you should sleep_

_and maybe you just need a friend_

_as clumsy as you've been_

_there's no one laughing_

She could hear him breathing, on the other end of their camp. For all his womanising nature, he was really honourable… if you kicked him in the right place. And she had, in her protest.

In retrospect, maybe that hadn't been the best of ideas. She should have been a little more gentle. He'd put up with it, hadn't hit her back – her /father/ had hit back, before she ran away, and she'd come by now to almost expect it in a guy – had tried to cajole her into just coming along with him, returning to Deling. Going back to live with her father, a life that wasn't a life – forbidden to go anywhere without a bodyguard, to just be the perfect little lady.

Like her mother.

_you will be safe in here _

_you will be safe in here_

Her mother had hated the life, too. Had never really loved the General. She had a diary, of her mother's. Her nanny had saved it, given it to her just before she'd run away. Caraway been so nice to her, had comforted her when she heard that the man she loved was missing in action… and when he'd fallen in love with her, and proposed, she'd felt obligated to say yes. But there was never love.. there was respect, but the kind of love that she'd felt for the other man – according to her diary – was never there.

And Julia had been hunted – as she grew famous, the fans began to swamp her. There was safety from them with Caraway.

There was safety from all of Galbadia when she was with Squall and the other SeeDs.. and she felt kind of safe with Irvine.. but there was his apparent reputation to worry about.

_throw away this very old shoelace,_

_that tripped you again_

_try and shrug it off, shrug it off, shrug it off_

_it's only skin now_

She'd tried to flee, from the sorceress, realising that Edea had seen through the bracelet, through her own petty plan. Her shoes – which had served her so well, for so long – had practically fallen apart, the yellow and green shoelaces she'd had since she bought the shoes snapping and turning to dust.

And then the sorceress had raised a hand, and her feet had left the ground. Literally. The sense of floating in the air, at the will of the sorceress, would have been unnerving.. but the sorceress' spiritual touch had been so powerful, so enticingly full of magic.

Magic that she had the unnerving feeling was also within her, if only she could figure out how to tap into it.

_you need to understand_

_there's nothing fake about this_

_you need to let me in_

_i'm watching you and..._

She sat up, sighing; her gaze inevitably sought the towers, dark and forbidding, that she'd come from, that held those she regarded not just as her guardians, but as friends. 

She had the eerie sense of being watched; a familiar feeling, of black leather and gunblade polish, and of another, more mature, shyer touch – a touch filled with that same power as Edea's; her head whipped around.

"Squall?"

_i'll be waving my hand watching you drown_

_watching you scream_

_quiet or loud_

_and maybe you should sleep_

_and maybe you just need a friend_

_as clumsy as you've been_

_there's no one laughing_

She was quick to stand, brushing dust from her clothes. Not much to pack. In fact, there was nothing. The small 'suitcase' – although she hesitated to call it that - with the radio still playing inside, held only a few curative items, and Irvine and her own weapons.

She moved around the tree, bending over to shake Irvine awake.

"Hunh...what? What's wrong, Rinoa?"

"I've made a decision... and don't even bother arguing. We're going back to get them."

He did protest – in a token manner, and she could see the relief in his eyes – but she kicked him, gently, so as not to actually injure him, clawed him a little with her nails, once again not enough to do damage, and he eventually followed, carrying the bag with the radio which still played, until the much abused batteries wore out and the remainder of their trip back to the prison was silent.

"Hey, Rinoa?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you reckon Selphie'll fall at my feet, thanking me for saving her and offering her heart on a silver platter?"

Or maybe not so silent. Rinoa's laughter filled the plains, helpless but quiet. Irvine stopped short, turning to face her. The dark-haired girl, not expecting this, bumped into him, knocking them both to the ground.

"Rinoa, you're so clumsy… oh, jeez, we have to fight another one. Come on, up you get."

_you will be safe in here_

_you will be safe in here_

_you will be safe in here_

_in here_

**~fin~**

**Any good? I just wrote, and wrote. I'm not sure what I wrote.. but I did. Review if you'd like.**

**Since I'm in the middle of holidays, I'm writing more. Should I bother?**


End file.
